The Contract
by xXKaiOfHeartsXx
Summary: A deal with the devil: love in exchange for servitude. What could go wrong? Merlin/Arthur, MxM, slash, slow developing, graphic
1. Pt I, Ch 1: Alone

**THE CONTRACT**

Part I: The Contract  
><em>Chapter 1: Alone<em>

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><p>"And so the devil has you<br>And your soul is infallibly lost"

_- _Gothe, Faust

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><p>Merlin sat at his desk. The clock on the far wall ticked slowly. He glared at his computer screen, too bored to do anything worth while.<p>

This, he supposed, was what it had come too.

He blinked, and looked away from the monitor – fairly sure the computer had won the staring contest, and gazed at his cubical. It was gray and lifeless. He didn't have any pictures because he didn't have anyone he wanted to remember. His mother was dead and he was alone. Alone and working at a dead end job doing... what was it he did?

He couldn't remember anymore.

The silence of the office toyed with him. He would have said that it was the sound of nothing – but that wasn't true. First of all, there was the ticking of the clock. It set a rhythm for the work place... a slow, dry one. Secondly there was the sound of people typing, and phones ringing (he supposed there must have been people talking too – but in a place like this, the only other voices you heard were from the cubicles directly around you), and the sound of papers shuffling and printers printing.

The Pendragon Insurance company was a standard affair. Working here was refined. Not really a dance – that would be far too poetic, but maybe more like a machine. Clicking along. Unfailing. Except when it needed to be re-oiled, or needed new parts or... whatever.

He had been working here for... what? How long? He sighed into his chair. (His back hurt from sitting. His eyes hurt from looking at the computer monitor.) He had been working here since college. It started out as reception. Just something to help pay the bills.

But then... what had happened? He got a degree! It was a degree in business, and while he had no plans to open his own, it was something he could proudly display, none-the-less. And so he had applied for a new job, something not quite so entry-level, at Pendragon Insurance and was promoted.

He could never remember what his official title was. It never mattered to him though. If anyone asked, he just told them that he did behind-the-scenes paper work at Pendragon Insurance. They would smile and ask about how mean its new owner, Uther Pendragon, was (he had his own reality show about business because he was stinking rich). He would reply saying that he didn't know – only met the man once. They would sigh and change the topic.

The Pendragon Insurance company hadn't always been as monotonous as this. Merlin had come to work there before it had come to new hands. Before it was Pendragon Insurance, it was All-Hearts Insurance, a company determined _not_ to completely scam people of all their money. But they had sold out.

But, Merlin had to admit, Pendragon Insurance wasn't that bad. In fact, for a large company, he felt largely confident that it wasn't the worst place to be. It had on-site services that he could visit if he wanted – a gym, a spa, a pool. But he never checked them out.

For Merlin, everyday was the same. He would wake up at exactly 6:30 am to the blaring sirens on his clock and go for a half hour run. He would then take a shower, get dressed, eat a quick breakfast and leave for his job – arriving precisely at 8. Then, after a long day of tedious work, he'd leave the office at 5 and return to his empty flat, make dinner for one, watch some TV and go to bed.

Sometimes he'd have dinner with his best friend Gwen. Or he'd call her and they'd talk about either his boring day, or her increasing luck as a a small time interior designer. Or sometimes, as they would do this day, they would talk about their loneliness.

Gwen was a pretty girl – and had he been straight, he totally would have gone for her. Instead they simply survived on their own, setting each other up occasionally, but to no avail.

Merlin waited for his lunch break. Oh how he longed for it! His legs needed a stretch and he felt like he could run up and down the street looking like a maniac.

Instead he adjusted his tie, allowing his neck more room to breathe, and clicked the _refresh_ on his email, hoping, nearly praying, that, for any reason, he wouldn't have to do the latest bout of paper work.

Nothing.

He sighed and stared at the TO DO pile that had gradually grown to be much taller than he liked.

He glanced up at the clock again. He had a half hour until his lunch break and decided that it wasn't worth just sitting doing nothing. So he grabbed at the top of the pile and picked out a folder. The Navidson Case.

It was a case about a house that burned down, only it wasn't that simple. Things kept happening... things that easily prevented the insurance pay out. He sighed and opened the folder scanning the pages and pages of redundant, but slightly reworded, information and got out his pen.

An hour had passed before he finally looked up to see that his lunch break was nearly over. "Shit," he muttered to himself, capping the pen and setting it down on the paper, aiming to keep his place when he closed the folder.

He scooted his leather swivel chair backwards and stood up. He stretched his arms out and looked around the office.

Everyone, who was still there, was working – or pretending they were, at least. There was a system. A system of mixing a little pleasure with much less business, and getting away with it. They were efficient enough, and when it came down to the wire – they had each others backs.

He could see through the glass walls on his right side which led to more executive offices and he sighed. He would pop in and ask for a lunch extension.

He threw the Navidson Case back into his pile and logged out of his computer. Grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet he left his tiny, expression-less cubical and made for the office of the floor manager.

Merlin straightened his tie, and knocked politely.

"Come in." He peaked inside to see Lance's strong features – he must visit the company gym – looking up at him. He smiled. "What do you need Merlin?"

That smile – it was gorgeous.

"Hey, I just realized that I worked into my lunch, and was wondering if I could just go now for a half-hour or so."

Lance glanced at his computer and back at Merlin. "Sure."

"Thank you so much."

"Of course... oh, Merlin?" Merlin had been about to pull his head out when Lance's voice rang through. Merlin's gaze flicked back and he took note of the man's gorgeous black hair.

"Yes?" he choked out.

"Could you bring me a sandwich or a salad or something?" He nodded to the computer. "I've still got some stuff to do."

Merlin swallowed, "Yeah. Sure. What kind?"

"Doesn't matter – you pick." He smiled and returned his gaze to his computer. "Thank you."

"Um... okay. Bye," Merlin quickly shut the glass door after he whirled around. He wasn't quite sure why he felt the odd sensation in his stomach that he did, but it was there. Had Lance asked to eat lunch with him? No, of course not..._ but what if he was and he was being sly about it?_ Merlin reasoned.

He looked around at the half empty office and pulled out his phone to dial Gwen as he made his way for the elevator.

It rung a few times before a breathy voice rang through. "Hey Merlin, what's up?" Gwen asked.

Merlin punched the up button on the elevator. "Meet me for lunch on the top floor... now?"

"Oh – I'm already there, the girls invited me for lunch. Come by if you want... What's wrong?"

"Hmm, what do you mean?" Merlin asked, impatiently pressing the up button three more times.

"You sound distracted."

"I uh... I'll tell you in a second. Wait by the elevator okay?"

"Sure."

He hung up just as a little _ding_ signaled the elevator. _Finally_, he thought.

"Gwen, Gwen-y, Gwen, Gwen" Merlin panted, commanding her attention.

"Hmm?" She broke her gaze from the framed picture on the wall and turned to look at him. "Oh, hi Merlin." She saw the slightly panicked expression on Merlin's face.

"What's goin' on hun?"

"I... I went into Lance's office because I worked into my lunch, and I wanted an extension and he asked me to get him a sandwich or a salad or something."

"Okay..." Gwen gave the pale man an odd look. "So?"

"So... what do I do?"

"What? You get him something to eat, it's not like he's asking you buy him the world..." she paused, and then an idea fell into her head, "Wait – do you like him?"

Merlin squirmed. "Erm... I just..." he sighed, "He's very... nice to look at."

"Yeah, he is," Gwen agreed, "or I assume so... I've never actually seen him, I don't think..." Then, "Merlin, hun, you deserve to be happy – doesn't matter who with. You've been depressingly alone since Will dumped you." Merlin nodded glumly. "It's been two years. And unless you've been withholding information, you haven't hooked up with anyone. You stay in your house all the time, and when I set you up, nothing ever happens. If Lance is what does it, you could do worse. From what you've told me of him before – wait he's your section chief, right?" Merlin nodded, "well, from what you've said, he seems very nice."

"Yeah, he is, but... I dunno... do you think he's...?"

"Merlin, doesn't matter. But it wasn't like he asked you out."

"He... didn't." It wasn't a question, but a deceleration. With, maybe, a little bit of question in there too...

Merlin sighed and Gwen cocked her head. "Wait... you thought he asked you out? What makes you think that?"

"I..." Merlin looked off, uncomfortable. There was a short lull.

Gwen smiled.

"What?" He asked.

"You're finally looking for something."

"No... no I'm not." Merlin resisted.

"Whatever. Still," she sighed, as if she was about to regret what she would say next, "don't go looking, or pretending, that something's there when there might not be. I don't want you to get hurt. Just... get him something to eat and don't expect anything from him. If he asks you to stay then do so, if not just let it be. Okay?"

"Okay." Merlin glanced at the food line. "What should I get him?"

"Get him a chicken sandwich or a Caesar salad or something."

"Okay." Merlin nodded and walked towards the food and away from the elevator. He turned around to talk to Gwen, only to find her right next to him.

"Um... Gwen? Should I bring it to him now, or..."

Gwen sighed. "Sure. But get yourself something too. And go down. And if he invites you to stay, call it a date. If he doesn't, come back up and eat with me, Clara and the girls." Merlin glanced over at a table in the crowded cafeteria and saw three women chatting animatedly. Clara and the girls were three women that worked for the Pendragon Insurance company, but on a different floor, and doing something different... Merlin wasn't quite sure what. They had met Gwen on her many lunch time visits with Merlin.

"Okay." He looked sad for a second. Then he smiled and looked up. "Okay. I'll try this."

"Be careful Merlin. I don't want you to get your hopes up, or for you to get hurt."

Merlin nodded, "Thanks," and made his way to the line, picking out the salad he thought looked the prettiest, and finding another one for him. He grabbed two bottles of water and paid for them. He made his way back to the elevator, his arms full of stuff. He gave an awkward wave to Gwen, who had returned to her table with the girls, and she winked at him back.

He sighed and pressed the down button and waited...

Merlin knocked on the glass door, and could see through it that Lance was working intently. So he pulled it open and staggered inside. "Here, I got you a salad and some water," he said setting them down on the desk.

Lance looked up at him for a second, "That was a quick lunch..." He glanced at the food on his desk and then the other plastic box in Merlin's hands. "Oh... you haven't eaten yet have you?" Merlin shrugged. "Well, thanks." He smiled, and went for his wallet.

"Oh, n-no, no, don't worry about it." Merlin waved it off with a delayed gesture, and waited for a second, wondering if he should say something – his heart thumping slightly.

"Thank you Merlin."

"Oh, of course."

At last Merlin turned to leave.

"Hey, Emrys."

He stopped and slowly pivoted. "Hmm?"

Lance looked contemplative for a second. "Would you like to eat in here with me? I realize that we don't know each other very well and... you seem like a nice person, and you're a good worker, so I figured I should get to know the people on my floor." _The people that you manage_, Merlin thought.

Merlin looked at the desk, and Lance pulled the plastic box of salad towards him and opened it, before clearing out a space on his desk for Merlin. "Here, sit," he gestured to the seat and Merlin awkwardly walked over and sat down. "So, what kinds of things are you into?" He asked, making a sheepish smile at his attempt to break the ice.

Merlin wasn't sure where this came from, or why he had said it, but there it was, coming up in his throat and out of his mouth and before he could stop himself: "Dick."

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><p>"How did it go?" Gwen asked over the phone as Merlin sat in his car, on his way home.<p>

"How did what go?"

"Lunch... _with Lance_. You didn't come back up, so I figured..." There was a playfulness in her voice.

"It... didn't."

"What do you mean, did you eat in your cubicle? Merlin, that's depressing."

Merlin slowed his car for a red light, "No, I mean, we ate. But uh... he isn't..."

"Oh... honey, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I wasn't really expecting anything anyways."

"Merlin..." she sighed. "Hey – how do you know? Did you like... ask?"

"I... well I accidentally said that I er... like... men... and he said he had a friend like that."

"Did you ask him to set you up?"

"No. He said his friend would kill him, something about being in a large, revolving closet or whatever." Merlin sighed, he was driving again, but now people were honking at him. He glanced around and notice he was going fifteen under. "Dammit, Gwen I'll call you later."

"Okay."

He shut off his phone and threw it into the passenger seat and concentrated his efforts on driving.

Merlin lay on his couch, remote in hand, flicking through the channels. "A hundred fucking channels, and nothing on," he said to himself. Then he shook the lonely feeling that lingered on his skin for talking to himself.

He finally settled on the science fiction channel before setting the remote down, and putting his head in his palms. He huffed for a second, before he decided to... "UGHHHHHHHHH," he moaned.

He launched himself off the couch and stalked to his room, grabbing the pillow from his bed, and returned to his soft couch. He sank into it, clutching the pillow to his chest like a stuffed animal or a lover. He could feel it. It has been years, and now... _finally_... was he getting over it?

He hoped so, because all that he wanted was to hold someone again. Or be held by someone again. A tear welled up in his eye, and he never felt more sensitive.

"I'm attractive," he murmured. At least, he was fairly sure he was. He didn't ever think he was particularly ugly. "I'm a nice person. A good fucking person."

He sighed, and a tear welled up in his eye.

Merlin decided, as a campy supernatural horror film played on his TV, that he would do just about anything to find someone to love him. And deep down... deep, deep down... he knew this to be absolutely, irrevocably true.

Even if it got him in trouble.

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><p>Lucifer sat on a chair, not unlike any other chair. He did not look particularly devilish. In fact, if one didn't know him personally, they'd say he looked almost... angelic. Except his smile.<p>

He gazed into a still, glass bowl of water and saw his reflection in it. And slowly his features morphed into those of a young man with intensely pale skin and dark hair. He lay crying.

Lucifer slowly nodded and called out for his assistant of sorts.

"Yes sir?" The woman asked with a cunning glint in her eye.

"This boy... draw up a meeting with him. I think he has excellent... potential."

"Yes sir, right away."


	2. Pt I, Ch 2: A Tall, Dark Stranger

**THE CONTRACT**

Part I: The Contract  
><em>Chapter <em>_2: A Tall, Dark Stranger_

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><p>Merlin couldn't believe he was doing this.<p>

It had been Gwen's suggestion, obviously, but he still couldn't believe he had relented to her incessant persistence. He did not want to go to the club. In fact – he hated the club. The music was too loud and obnoxious, the people were either too ugly or too promiscuous, and the drinks were outrageously overpriced.

They sat in a booth in the corner. Clara had come along too, but only because she wanted to grind up on the gay guys.

Gwen looked pointedly at him and told him to go dance. "Pull a Clara and find someone to have floor sex with."

Merlin pretended that he hadn't heard that and went on nursing his beer. "This is quite a comfortable booth," he remarked, slightly sullen. He knew he should have stayed in, at home – this was going to be no use.

"You know Merlin, I just don't get you sometimes."

Merlin looked up to see Gwen's worried face. "Those worry-lines in your forehead don't go with your dress," he remarked.

She smiled. "Ha. Ha. Very funny Merlin. But, seriously, I just don't get you. You so obviously want someone... I mean, you've gone from one extreme to the next. First, after the breakup, you've been pushing everyone away. Fine, but _finally_ I see you beginning to look for someone, and I can tell your pining away, alone."

Merlin took a sip of beer, and suddenly found the various black lines in the wood table to be extraordinarily intriguing.

"Look, it's been three days since the whole Lance-dick fiasco, and every day that I've visited you, I've caught you looking at him through the glass. Merlin, this is ridiculous. I understand that he's straight and there's not much you can do about that, besides like... getting him drunk or drugged or something... Merlin, please don't get any ideas from that... but you need to get out there. Go on the dance floor, meet a guy... and just... hook up or something. It's been two years, I think you've been masturbating long enough."

Merlin gagged on the alcohol, and coughed it back down. When he looked into Gwen's eyes, he knew she was dead serious. So he sighed.

"Fine, but you can buy me another beer first."

She grinned, "Alrighty then."

"And then tomorrow we'll go to a normal club to get you a man."

The smile swiftly fell from her face. "N-no, Merlin, I don't think so. Your problems come first, eh?"

Gwen was a sweet girl, a mostly innocent girl. One who never had much actual experience in the guy department, and much more experience in the sensual fan-fiction department.

Merlin gave her a pointed look. "I'll go out if you do. It only seems fair, seeing as you've never even done it with a guy-"

"Hey! I have so, remember whe-"

"Gwen, I'm sorry, but you don't even remember it. So I wouldn't be talking."

She sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. Fine. If that is what it takes to get you to go dance up on some random guy, then I'll do it. But only because I'm an amazing friend, not because I actually want... anything."

That was a lie. Both Merlin and Gwen knew this, but neither brought it up.

Merlin raised the glass bottle to his lips and polished it off. "When I get back, I expect one to be waiting for me." Gwen nodded, and Merlin slid out of the booth.

When he stepped onto the floor, he realized that he was so out of his element. Dancing? It really wasn't his thing. He was never very good at it – all limbs, and no restraint. He glanced to Gwen and grimaced, and she just raised her cocktail in return, sipping it and winking at him at the same time.

He took a few half steps towards the mob of people and awkwardly bopped his way in – not really dancing with anyone, yet moving with the collective. The next thing he knew, he felt a hand on his arm, and whoever it was was dragging him into the middle of all the chaos.

When Merlin got a chance to regain his senses, he noticed that he'd never seen the man before in all his life, and that the man was smiling at him, and dancing like... a fucking god or something.

"I'm Johnny," the man said with a devilish grin.

"M-Merlin," he responded, slightly uncomfortable under the affectionate gaze.

"Merlin," the man, Johnny, repeated. His voice was husky and... Merlin was sure this wasn't actually happening. He'd seen this before... at least, he'd read it. In his stowed away collection of romance novels, with gorgeous, shirtless men on the cover. This never happened to real people. It just happened to fictional people.

Merlin was starting to get the sense that he was dreaming.

"That's an interesting name," said Johnny, stepping forward slightly to wrap his arms around Merlin's waist. Instinctively, he flinched and the tall, dark haired man laughed. "But I like it..." as an after thought, he added, "You're a quiet man, aren't you?"

"Am I dreaming?" Merlin asked, slightly dazed. Which is when he noticed the man had dimples.

"Why do you ask?"

Merlin looked down at his feet, and blushed slightly, "This is... this feels... unrealistic."

"There's a reason for that."

He looked up into the stranger's eyes and noticed something unfamiliar lurking in the depths. "What do you mean?"

The man just laughed again. "This isn't a dream."

"It isn't?"

"I'll pinch you if you like."

Merlin nodded, and the man leaned over and Merlin stilled, suddenly confused. What was going on? Did normal people pinch other people with their head?

He could feel Johnny's breath on his pale neck and then felt the sharp nip as he bit on the flesh. Merlin jumped slightly, but did not awaken.

He supposed that this had to be reality...

"See? Not a dream?"

Merlin nodded slowly. He looked away and noticed an attractive blonde man watching him from the bar. When their eyes connected the man quickly looked away and took a large sip of his gin and tonic before leaning over the counter to talk to the bar tender.

Merlin looked back at the man, and a sudden wave of insecurity washed over him. He felt ridiculous, dancing this closely, and this seductively to a man he had never met before in his life. "Why are you dancing with me?"

Johnny grinned. "Because I find you to be very... alluring. I can't take my eyes off of you."

"Um... thanks?"

"Mhm," the man nodded and leaned over, gently nuzzling Merlin's neck, eyes closed.

Merlin glanced helplessly over the sea of people to Gwen who was grinning at him. She gave him a thumbs up and he gave her a pleading look, trying to convey the fact that he felt like he was walking blindly and needed rescuing.

"Save me," Merlin mouthed to her when he realized that just a look wasn't going to cut it. She rolled her eyes, dramatically, and he watched as she made a show of standing up and stalking towards him.

He focused on Johnny again, and tried to feel more into the dance, but the more he tried letting go to his inhibitions, the more he felt like he wanted to run away. The strong arms around him meant nothing. The kisses on his neck, as warm as they were, felt cold and lifeless on his skin.

But he allowed himself to go along with the dance as he waited, and then, "Merlin," Gwen said, practically screaming to be heard over the music.

"Yes?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Johnny pulled back, and stopped dancing, instead just looking between the two.

"Clara's having a mental break down and I need you to calm her."

"What? Since when did Clara have ment...oh." He stopped himself, and looked to his feet before looking back up at her, "okay. I'll be there in a second."

"Alright," Gwen replied, making her way back to their booth.

Merlin looked up at the man he had just met. "I... better... go."

He found that he couldn't look the man in his eyes, but Johnny just smiled. "Well, it was nice to meet you, _Mer_lin."

Merlin nodded slowly, "Um... you too... John-ny."

"Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Maybe," Merlin gave a half-hearted smile and turned to leave.

He wasn't sure, but had he just heard the man say, "Probably," right as he had left? He shook off the feeling. He was surrounded by people, sliding between them to try and get out, they could all be talking. Not to mention the loudness of the music. But he couldn't quite shake the clarity of the one word, "Probably." What did it mean?

Gwen handed him his new beer and she grinned, "Come on, let's go outside so he thinks we've gone somewhere."

"Well, what about Clara?"

"Oh, she's outside too, waiting to collaborate stories."

Merlin gave her a look. "I just wanted to escape, it was just... too much. You didn't need to puller her out, she could have stayed if she wanted."

Gwen giggled, "Merlin, she only grinds with the gays because she's trying to show you what you're missing out on."

Merlin sighed. "I'm sorry, I just never realized I was supposed to whore myself."

Gwen laughed and they marched out of the front doors and over to Clara's car, where the familiar blonde was waiting. "Hi guys," she said perkily. Her eyes zeroed in on Merlin, "I saw you practically doing that gorgeous guy on the dance floor. Tell all. Like, for example, why you wanted to leave."

"Too much, too fast," he mumbled.

"Hmm... well he was absolutely beautiful. I really think you shoulda done it with him," Clara grinned mischievously and leaned back against her car.

Merlin choked. "N-no... I don't think so."

"Why not, he was _obviously_ into you! What with the kissing and all!"

"How could you tell? I thought you were busy grinding."

"Honey, _everybody_ could tell. It was inescapable. It was like you were having sex on the dance floor, despite the fact that you had clothes on."

"But... we weren't even doing anything very dirty."

"Yeah, but... you were just... very intimate."

It was? This was news to Merlin. He had realized that they were being affectionate, and dance-y... but he definitely did not get the sense that they had been very intimate. Okay, sure, the man was kissing his neck... but he hadn't kissed back or anything... Merlin set his beer down on the top of the car.

"So, what was his name, and what was he like?" Gwen asked.

"Um, his name was Johnny and he was... um... fictional."

"Huh?" Clara cocked her head, and a small smile tugged on Gwen's lips – she got it. "What do you mean?"

"He was like... something out of a book. It was crazy ridiculous. And he had like a perfect voice, and body, and just... it was... bizarre."

"Oh Merlin," Clara sighed. "I know you want this, I just don't understand why you don't go for it."

"Because that's just... not me. I'm not equipped that way. I don't... just do guys. I can't take that sort of thing. I need... I need a real relationship with problems and love, and home-cooked meals. I... well, I'm not going to find that here am I?" He gestured towards the club and sighed.

Gwen nodded, "Okay. I can understand that. I just... want you to be happy. We both do."

Clara nodded in agreement. Then, "Come on, let's go to my place and we can find a movie and gorge ourselves on ice cream."

"Ooh," Gwen grinned. "Sounds fun."

"Yeah, alright," Merlin added. Clara pushed herself off the car and moved to the driver's door, while Gwen made for the passenger seat. "Shit, I forgot my coat inside," Merlin mumbled. He looked anxiously at the club.

"We'll wait for ya," Clara said slipping into the car.

"I... er... alright, okay. Fine, be back in a second.

He quickly jogged towards the club, cutting in front of the people who lingered outside. "I was already inside," he said to the guard, flashing the little stamp on his hand. "I forgot my coat."

The burly man nodded and he bounced inside, and made his way towards the booth they had previously occupied. Merlin's path was intercepted by someone who was taller then him. When he looked up, he found himself looking into Johnny's eyes again, feeling slightly guilty.

"Hi," the man said. "How's your friend?"

"What? Oh, right, yeah she got over it. We're... um... going back to her place to gorge ourselves on ice cream."

"Oh," he didn't look disappointed. "Well, if she really is okay, you could just come home with me instead." Merlin was slightly taken aback.

"Um... I don't... I'm sorry, but... I was just going to grab my coat and... I really shouldn't ditch her."

Johnny took a second to think. "What's her name?"

"Whose?"

"The girl." They were standing off to the side of the club now, Johnny was leaning against the wall, one hand behind his back, the other resting loosely on his chest.

"Oh... um... Clara."

"Hmm... well, you know The Nutcracker?"

"Sure."

"Have you seen it?"

"A long time ago."

"Well, she's a very strong girl. I think she'll be fine without you. Besides she had that other girl with her. The pretty, black one."

Merlin nodded, "That's Gwen."

"And an equally fitting name. Merlin, if you feel guilty – don't. I know for a fact they'll be alright." Johnny's kind voice made Merlin feel guilty for lying to him, and yet, at the same time, he could tell that the man knew he had lied.

But Merlin couldn't resist the intoxicating scent of the stranger in front of him. Suddenly he felt this uncontrollable drive to do what he wanted, to go home with him, to do the deed he hadn't done in quite some time.

"Come on, say you will."

And... "I will." He couldn't believe it! Where had that come from? Had he really just said it? Could it have just been his imagination, and he had actually said something like, "No way in hell?"

But judging from the man's reaction, he'd said the thing that Johnny wanted to hear. He mentally scolded himself, but realized it was too late. He had said it... actually said it. "Great, then let's get out of here, yeah? Too loud, too many people."

"I um... forgot my coat. That's why I came back."

The man nodded. "You said."

"Oh... so I'll just go get it."

"No need. I, um, grabbed it. Here." He pulled the coat out from behind his back. "I thought you'd be back, I figured I'd save it for you."

"Thank you?"

A weird feeling coated Merlin's thoughts, and he wondered if he should embrace or ignore it. "Of course. Come on, let's go."

Merlin nodded. "Okay."

They walked back towards the door and Merlin noticed Johnny glance towards the bar and nod at a pretty blonde woman. She nodded back at him and finished her martini before setting it back on the counter, and sliding off the bar stool.

Merlin turned his attention back to the tall, man who managed to look incredibly sweaty (and sexy) and yet had completely dry clothes at the same time. Johnny pulled the coat over Merlin's shoulders and they slipped into the night. "Come on," Johnny motioned, steering them around to the back of the building.

"You parked in behind the building?"

The man laughed, "No, no, of course not. I want you to meet somebody."

"What? Who? Wait, what's going on here?" Merlin took a side step away from Johnny's body, and felt an arm slide around his waist and pull him closer. His heart started beating at a mile a minute. He wanted to run away now. He hadn't yet alerted Gwen and Clara – they'd be wondering where he was in a few minutes, right? Or maybe they saw him exit the building with Johnny and decided to leave him? They had said they wouldn't...

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you," the man said.

Somehow, this didn't make Merlin feel any better.

When they turned the corner, the blonde woman was waiting for them. She wore a pretty red dress and had equally as vibrant, ruby lips. She slyly smiled as they approached. "Hello... I don't know your name," she said, looking at the pale man.

"His name is _Mer_lin," Johnny purred.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as she appraised the frightened, raven-haired man. "Wonderful, wonderful." She licked her lips, "Oh Master, we're ready for you."

Merlin narrowed his eyes, looking around. Was he going to be beaten? Or raped? He wasn't very strong, and he had brittle bones. And... and if he tried to escape, Johnny's arm was already tightly around him...

Suddenly a haze of smoke sprung from no where and turned into a figure who looked slightly like Johnny, only a little bit older and a little bit stockier. He was dressed in a nice white shirt, and khaki pants.

Only then did Merlin feel Johnny's arm slip from around his waist, and then he watched anxiously as the stranger took a step away from him, and stood next to the woman. He felt deserted, he wanted the arm back. Or at least something that would make him feel protected.

"Don't run, Merlin," the man said.

Merlin tried to run, but he couldn't move. He couldn't quite get his mind to control his legs.

"I told you not to run," the man repeated. "Do you know why you cannot run?"

Merlin shook his head slowly. A solitary tear rolled out of his eyes and down his cheek. He didn't even bother pleading with the man. He knew it would be no use...

"You cannot run because your mind knows that my preposition here will benefit you."

Merlin opened his mouth, and tried to speak, but found that his voice had gone horse with fear, and that the best he could do was a lame, "How?"

The man's eyes twinkled, but he did not reply. Instead, he held out his hand. "Hello Merlin, my name is Lucifer."


	3. Pt I, Ch 3: Potential

**THE CONTRACT**

Part I: The Contract  
><em>Chapter <em>_3: Potential_

* * *

><p><em>"Hello Merlin, my name is Lucifer."<em>

Once the words were out of the man's mouth, they hung in the air like a bad odor. The other man, Johnny, looked at the woman and they smiled before returning their attention back to Merlin.

"You know, I'm not the one who is preventing you from running," the older man told Merlin. Merlin remained silent. "Alright, maybe I had a little bit of influence in place, but it was just a spell! You wouldn't move if you didn't _really_ want to… Oh get over it, it's just some harmless fun!" Lucifer narrowed his eyes and dropped his extended hand before giving Merlin time to process.

At last, the raven-haired man spoke… "Spell?"

The man laughed. "Of course. Don't you know of the magic in this world?"

Merlin just stared at him.

"Well it _is_ there, Merlin. And anyone can have some… if they know the right people."

Merlin laughed nervously, but when he saw that the trio was looking at him with completely serious expressions, his temperament changed considerably. "What the fuck is this? It's some kind of sick joke, right?" Merlin glared at Johnny, "I bet you do this too all of the guys you pick up. Or girls. I don't know… what the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you people?" He wasn't speaking loudly, but he had force behind each word he said.

Merlin contemplated spitting, but he felt that that would be too dramatic. So, instead, he just turned around, intent on storming off. This whole experience had been quite enough for one Friday.

"Stop," Johnny commanded.

Merlin could not move a muscle. Even when he pivoted around to face the group, he hadn't done anything. It was like he was lifted and turned by some invisible force.

"Look at me," Johnny again.

Merlin's gaze slowly swung from the older man to the younger, and he watched as Johnny promptly lifted his right index finger, and a small flame spring from the tip.

Merlin's eyes opened, slightly. "What the hell?" he breathed.

The woman grinned, and held up her own index finger, and – there it was! She too had conjured a flickering flame.

Merlin took a small step back, and the woman with blood-red lips pulled out a cigarette and lit it with her finger. Merlin glanced at the man in all white, and he held out his entire hand. A ball of fire erupted and floated in the air, illuminating the night.

Then, all at the same time, they extinguished their flames. A rehearsed display of synchronicity.

Merlin's mouth fell open. And then it closed. And then it opened again. "Surely a trick, a lighter in your pocket… up your sleeve…" but his explanation was feeble and his eyes were dazed.

Lucifer smiled. "Oh, it's no trick," he paused for, what Merlin could only assume was, dramatic effect. "You can have some too, if you like."

Merlin did not reply, but the man in white seemed to take this as encouragement. He took a breath to formulate his words, and then opened his mouth, "Merlin, we are not here by accident. You have… what is the proper term? _Potential._ We've been watching you – not for a long time, but for enough time for us to realize that you have something I can give you, and you can provide something that I want. And to sweeten the pot, I thought you'd like a little magic."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that your love life just isn't going swell, is it?" There was a gleam in Lucifer's eyes, and Merlin paled.

"What?"

"Well first of all you're gay – do you know how many gay men there are? Not as many as you'd think. Second of all, you have a terrible gaydar," Merlin felt uncomfortable hearing this man say that word, "Thirdly, you have horrendous timing. In fact, I'm fairly certain you must have some of the worst timing of any mortal I've seen. Oh, God does have a sense of humor doesn't he? You know, we had lunch the other day and he was talking about some of the things he's cursed his people with, and you know, I couldn't help but offer him a position in my hierarchy…" The man trailed off.

"I… My luck isn't that ba- wait, _God?_"

The man chuckled, "Oh I'm just kidding, you know, having a little joke." The other two seemed to find this incredibly humorous. "But seriously, you want someone to love you and be loved by."

"I do." Merlin didn't know why, he didn't know a lot of things these days, but he wasn't sure why it was that he hadn't questioned this assessment. Possibly, because it was true.

"Yes, and I… well, it's so hard to get decent, non-backstabbing servants. You know, on the one hand, schemes and such just _prove _how ruthless an entity might be, but on the other hand, it is just so _difficult_. Johnny and Jaime here, they're twins. They've got a life story, as do many other people, but I find theirs to be… exhilarating. Maybe you'll hear it one day, but that's not the point. The point is, is that they've devoted themselves to me. Of course they've gotten things in return, but sometimes, I find that two just isn't enough. Sometimes I need… another perspective. Merlin, we like you. We'll help you if you help us."

Merlin swallowed. This wasn't happening was it? Perhaps Johnny hadn't sufficiently bitten his neck inside the club, and he actually was still asleep.

"You aren't asleep," Lucifer said.

"When you say love," Merlin started, ignoring the fact that Lucifer had seemingly read his mind, and not really believing that he was believing any of this, "you don't mean…" his eyes glanced at Johnny, "_him_, do you?"

"Who, Johnny?" Lucifer smiled and he looked over at the strapping young man. "If you like, I think he'd be up for some fun. But I don't find him to be particularly… long-term. You want something more stable." Merlin nodded. "And I have someone in mind. And to prove that who I find for you will be _exactly_ what you wished for, you can sign a contract."

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

"Back to the dream thing, we'll stipulate that if this _is_ a dream, then you'll wake up immediately, with no strings attached. And if you are awake, which you are, and this _is_ reality, then we'll have another part of the contract too, alright?"

Merlin did not nod. No – he didn't! But… had he? He felt his head move slightly, in a fashion not unlike nodding, but he hadn't told it to do that, and he _certainly_ did not think this was appropriate at all. A contract in the darkness behind a club? Not seedy at all… And, not only that, but the fact that the man's words had gotten so clumped together, that he didn't understand what he was saying, only went to prove that Merlin should have run when he had the chance.

"So we'll say, for fun, that you will abide by all of my commands, and act as my servant whenever I need. You may take a total of two weeks leave for the first year, and perhaps, this may be extended in the future. In return, you will receive dosages of magic, though, we'll start small and work our way up over time (yes?), and you'll also find your _perfect_ love within one week."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. Perfect love? That didn't seem so bad. And if he had to do whatever this man wanted – that couldn't be so bad either, could it? And it wasn't as if the terms weren't bad. In fact, they were more in his favor… weren't they?"

"After you sign, you will receive a mission, and only once this mission has been completed, will your part of the contract be set in stone, and you'll begin to receive your pieces of the bargain."

"And what if, sometime in the future, I want out?" Merlin asked.

Lucifer nodded, as if he had anticipated this. "I am not unreasonable. If you want out, we will let it be so; however, you will lose your powers, and quite possibly, your love."

Merlin gazed at him, thinking. Was it worth it? Love? Was it really worth that much? Had his quest failed so hard that he had to resort to _this_?

"And maybe, if your service is good enough, after many years, I will release you from your contract and we will depart… equals and I will not take anything back from you." He paused, "Do you find this to be agreeable?"

Johnny and Jaime were watching intently at the scene that unfolded in front of them.

And Merlin – _God damn it!,_ he thought – nodded his head, "Where do I sign?" Auto-pilot. That must have been what was happening to Merlin's brain. He certainly wasn't doing all this. He wanted his free will! He just wanted his life! This was too weird, too eccentric. He just wanted to run to Clara's car and go home. Maybe take a nice bubble bath and just relax into the warmth of the water, or his bed…

Lucifer grinned. "Why, right here, on the dotted line…" he waved his hand through the air and a piece of standard white paper appeared, with the contract printed on it in fresh, red ink. It hovered for a moment, before slipping into Merlin's hand.

Lucifer pulled a pen from his pocket and examined it for a half of a second before handing it over. Merlin skimmed through the words on the page, and sighed. Then he signed – but the pen wasn't working…

"Um, do you have a different pen?" Merlin asked.

"No, no, don't worry about it. Trust me. Just pretend it has ink in it."

"Oh… okay, whatever." Merlin shook his head, not actually caring, and finished signing, despite the fact that, clearly, nothing was on that dotted line. "Good?"

"Perfect."

"Alright, so what's my first task?"

Lucifer smiled.

* * *

><p>"Where do you think he is?" Gwen asked, sitting in the passenger seat of the car, anxiously looking around the parking lot for any sign of Merlin.<p>

"How long do you think it'll take for him to get his coat?" Clara responded.

"Well, if it's where I think he left it, you know, in the booth, and he went right there… only… oh… maybe less than five minutes?"

"It's been about that long."

"Okay – so he'll be out soon, maybe?"

"Maybe."

"They sighed and continued to wait. They glanced back and forth between each other, and the door. Finally, after another minute or so of waiting, Merlin came out with Johnny walking awfully close to him.

The girls grinned at each other. Then, "Oh my god," Gwen whispered.

"They're not even coming towards us, they're…" Clara squinted her eyes, "I think they're going to go fuck behind the building. Shit, that's… that's _heavy_." They giggled and slumped into their seats.

Gwen's smile slipped off of her face. "What if Johnny hurts Merlin? I mean… they've only known each other for like an hour. What if… what if something bad happens and Merlin is left to rot, or die?"

"Don't be so dramatic Gwen," Clara scolded. But she too lost a bit of spark. "Okay, here's what we'll do. Eight minutes is all it takes right? I mean, a quicky behind a bar… shouldn't even be that long. Whatever, we'll give them the eight minutes, and if they're not out by then, we'll go in and rescue Merlin."

Gwen nodded, "Alright."

* * *

><p>Eight minutes later, and the girls remained sitting, biting their nails and fidgeting, caught somewhere between worry and excitement – praying to god that nothing terrible was happening.<p>

"It's been eight minutes," Gwen commented. Clara knew this fact well, for they both had their eyes constantly flitting back to the clock in the car.

"Yeah. So we should go, right?"

"Yeah." … "But, what if, like, we get there and they're still doing it?"

"Then we don't say anything and we sneak away."

"Oh, alright. Okay, let's go then."

"Yep."

They just looked at each other, still sitting.

"Now?" Gwen asked.

"I should think so."

"Fine."

"Great."

They remained frozen, looking at each other before, finally, Clara gave a singular nod and opened the door, popping out. Gwen followed suit.

They slowly sauntered over to the side of the building, careful not to make any noise,, hoping they would arrive at just the right time. When they peaked around the side of the building, they saw Merlin sitting on the ground, alone, leaning against the brick wall. He looked cold, despite the fact that he had his coat zipped up tightly around his skinny body.

"Oh my god, Merlin. Are you okay?" Gwen asked, kneeling down next to him.

"Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?" His voice was monotonous.

"We saw you go back here, but we thought that you and Johnny were going to… get it on, "Clara looked uncomfortable.

"We didn't."

"What happened?" Gwen asked.

"Nothing. Nothing happened."

From the way he was shaking slightly, the girls knew that something had gone down, but decided to let it slide.

"Come on, let's get going, shall we?" Clara asked.

"I want to go home," Merlin remarked.

Neither girl fought it, "Okay," said Clara.

* * *

><p>The car ride was silent for a long while. Merlin sat in the back, clutching onto his beer and occasionally taking sips of it, letting the luke-warm liquid roll down his throat.<p>

Clara sighed, "You know it's illegal to have an open bottle of alcohol in the car, right?"

Merlin didn't reply. Instead he took another sip. He had fucked up so bad. He… it wasn't worth this. _Nothing_ was worth _this_.

Clara shook her head, but kept her eyes on the dark road ahead. Gwen leaned into her seat, and looked at Merlin through the rear view mirror. "Merlin, are you sure that you're okay?" She asked him.

Their eyes connected in their reflection and then he looked off into the night sky. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Well, we're here Merlin. If you ever want to talk, or something."

"Yeah, of course." They fell silent again. "Actually, let's go watch a movie," he said.

Clara nodded, "Alright." She looked over at Gwen who grinned. "Yeah, sounds fun. So, okay, um, do you want to watch a romance or something else…?"

"Ugh, no chick flicks, _please_."

"But you're gay!" Clara exclaimed, "What's the point of having a gay friend if we can't watch Katherine Heigl or Sandra Bullock get it on?"

Merlin glared at her through the seat back. "I'm not _that_ gay."

"Please, you wear pink ties."

"Lots of guys wear pink ties."

"Yeah, but their straight."

"My point exactly."

' "No, their pink ties only reflect the fact that they're comfortable with their masculinity / sexuality, while your pink ties bring out your gay side."

"I don't think it works like that."

"Don't be silly, of course it does."

"Whatever."

Gwen just remained silent, and smiled.

"Hey, when we get to your home, can I borrow your phone book?" Merlin asked randomly.

Clara looked confused. "Whatever for?"

"I just… I want to look someone up."

"Okay, yeah, sure… of course… god, I don't think I've touched a phone book since I brought them inside when they dropped 'em off. I mean, no one really uses them anymore since the world discovered the internet."

"Yeah, I suppose… it's just… I guess I'm a bit old fashion that way."

"Honey, you're gay, that is about as modern as can be."

Merlin glared at her, again. "It's not like me being gay is a statement. I am what I am."

"You're so cheesy," Clara commented. "It's sickening, I want to vomit."

"Yeah, says the girl who wants to watch some chick flicks."

Gwen noticed, however, that Merlin had a glow back in his eyes, and she laughed along with the joke.

They ended up watching reruns on TV. Some old reality show with washed up, attention-seeking sluts, causing frivolous drama which played between Clara and Gwen's lighthearted banter. After popping open another beer, once they got to Clara's flat, Gwen was considerably more animated.

This time, however, Merlin was much quieter. He sat on the floor, with three different phone books in front of him ("How many different volumes can their possibly be?" Gwen had asked. "A lot, Clara commented, sighing, "Such a waste of paper."). "What do you think Johnny's last name is?" he asked.

Clara and Gwen froze, while a commercial played in the background. "Um, he didn't say?" Clara responded.

"No…"

"And he didn't give you his number after he left – whenever that was?"

"Nope."

She sighed. "I don't know… but, Merlin, I don't think you're actually going to find him in there. Who knows if Johnny's his real name or not. It could be Johnny, but it could also be John, or Jonathan, or… really… anything."

"Yeah, you're right. Whatever. Doesn't matter. I didn't want to find him anyways."

'Then who," Gwen asked.

"Sophia Goldwyn-Mayer."

"Oh, interesting," Gwen said. "I didn't know you're friends with her."

"I'm not… er… Johnny mentioned her, or something. I was just… um… curious."

"Oh, well don't you know?" Gwen asked.

"Know what?"

Gwen looked over at Clara and shook her head. "Jeez, Merlin, you need to get out more. I don't even _work_ in your building, and I know."

"She's Arthur Pendragon's girlfriend," Clara chimed in.

"Who's he?" Merlin asked dumbly.

Clara sighed. "Holy crap, Merlin, you are thick. What company do we work for?"

"Um… Pendragon Insurance? Oh… shit… wait, I thought _Uther_ was the owner."

"Yeah, he is." Clara shook her head, "He has a son. Named Arthur."

"Oh. I didn't know that. Have I seen him?"

"I don't know. He doesn't work there, so I haven't seen him either. I'm sure he's attractive though, just like his dad."

Merlin frowned. "Ew."

"Oh come one!" Clara exclaimed, "You really don't think Uther is an attractive older man?"

"No."

"Maybe…" Gwen said quietly.

Merlin looked at her incredulously. "What! That is just… too weird." (Clara grinned.)

"No, no, no, _no_! I'm not saying I'd _date_ him," Gwen fixed quickly. "I'm just saying… I think he was probably very attractive in his prime, and is reasonably attractive now."

"Eh…" Merlin looked back to his phone books.

"In his _prime_! _Reasonably_!" Clara looked baffled at her friend's apparent lack of taste in older men. "Well, I think he's very attractive."

"Clara, that is because you're a whore," Merlin stated as a matter-of-fact, with only a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, love you too."

But Merlin tuned out their voices as the girls bickered back and forth. He had just found the entry he was looking for. He stared at the little black letters and numbers, sandwiched between other black letters and numbers, and he asked himself – _Why her?_ followed quickly by a, _Why me?_ He stared at the little entry and the phone number and address became burned into his brain. He couldn't believe it!

He was going to kill Sophia Goldwyn-Mayer.


	4. Pt I, Ch 4: Friday Night

**THE CONTRACT**

Part I: The Contract  
><em>Chapter <em>_4: Friday Night_

* * *

><p>Arthur sat at the bar, an empty glass in hand. He gazed longingly at the door, for the man he had been watching that entire night had left moments before and he wanted to chase him down. There were a few problems with the plan: 1) it was probably too late anyways, and by the time Arthur would be in the parking lot, the raven-haired man would be gone for good; 2) he didn't even know the man's name, let alone the man himself; and 3) he wasn't that courageous.<p>

He sighed and slammed the cup on the counter.

"Another?" The bar man asked him, while taking the glass and wiping down the counter with the white cloth he always seemed to have on hand.

"Nah," Arthur shook his head. "I should really be going."

He slid off of the bar stool and pulled out his wallet. He flipped through the many bills inside and pulled out a fifty and tossed it lightly in the direction of the bar tender. "Keep the change," he motioned.

The man grinned, "Either I'm really attractive, or you're having a terrible night."

Arthur paused and looked him up and down, before smiling sadly. "Take your pick."

Arthur pivoted and looked out at the entire club before him and nearly had a minor panic attack. He didn't think of himself as claustrophobic, but there were so many people, and he just wasn't used to this kind of interaction. His mind flashed back to a few minutes ago when he was watching the gorgeous raven-haired man dancing with the other man. The taller one with brown hair. A pang in his stomach indicated that he was feeling some sort of emotional imbalance, due to jealousy or a similar sentiment.

He carefully edged around the club, trying his best to avoid the sweaty, hyper-sexual people gyrating on the dance floor. He felt some strange hands grope his ass, but he slapped them away. It didn't matter, though, because the damage was done. It had taken him so much effort to come out for the night, and now he knew for sure.

Though, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he had known for a long time. That he was gay. It wasn't a fact that he prided himself in. He had resisted for so long... He had pretended that he was "normal." But then... but then he knew he wasn't like every other boy in town. That instead of fantasizing about busty, beer buying women, he just kept his mind clean because the alternative would have scared him shit-less.

His life now was so no longer in his control. Everyone else was taking bits and pieces of his free will and filling it with their own motives. His father, for one, had convinced him about which degree to get ("A business degree is very versatile," he liked to mention), what girl to court ("That Sophia girl is very pretty, and you know, her father wouldn't be a terrible person to have a relationship with. You know they're very wealthy, and well respected in Camelot."), and which flat he should invest in ("The one by the river has both a great view, and is a great location between Pendragon Insurance, as well as many other cultural attractions."). His girlfriend had convinced him that moving in would be a good idea, and now he wasn't so sure. He knew this whole charade couldn't last forever.

When Arthur finally stumbled out of the door, he found himself lost in the parking lot. "Where the fuck is my car?" He muttered under his breath, before scouring up and down the rows in search for his black town car. When he had finally found it nestled in between an SUV and a convertible, he collapsed against the side, and slid to the tar.

He felt weak. Not just physically, but emotionally too. He wanted to cry. He wanted to talk. He needed to be gushy and mushy and expressive, and he'd only ever had one friend he could do that with.

He warily felt around in his pocket for his Blackberry – a two-hundred dollar mistake, for he'd be content with a boring ten buck flip phone – and searched through his recent calls list for the number of his best friend. He pressed the green call button and a picture of Lance filled the screen. He held the gadget up to his ear and heard the monotonous rings.

After three or four, Lance answered. "It is eleven o'clock. You had better be dying, or at least in severe pain."

Lance had been his friend ever since they met in college as room mates. Arthur's father, Uther, had taken an instant liking to the man and had offered him a management job upon graduation at his newly acquired Pendragon Insurance ("You know, Lance, a business degree can be very useful," Uther had mentioned in passing one day. "That, plus your charisma and excellent record can lead to wonderful prospects for you."). He had accepted.

"Ah no, but... I just wanted to talk. I went out to the place... er... that you suggested, and um... I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed."

Lance's voice softened. "Oh. Well, sure. Come over. You should know better than anyone, that I don't go to sleep on Friday's until Saturday."

"Yeah," Arthur didn't laugh at the joke. "Thanks. You're a good friend, and a good man." It was true. Sometimes Arthur thought that he was a failure of a man, especially when compared to Lance who seemed to have his entire life together.

"I hope you're not hitting on me," Lance grumbled.

Arthur laughed nervously, "N-no. No. I... don't be stu- I'll see you in fifteen. And if I'm not there within thirty minutes, know I've been arrested for driving drunk, or have been involved in a car accident."

"Oh. Um... maybe I should just come out there and pick you up."

"No, no, don't be silly. See you in a few."

"Um, you sure?"

"Yep, bye."

"..." He sighed, "Safe driving. Bye."

_Click_.

Arthur stuffed his expensive piece of shit back in his pocket, and pulled himself off of the ground, using the adjacent Jeep as a handle. He dusted himself off, and found his keys in his pocket, and unlocked the car, slipping in.

He drove in complete silence. He didn't think he had the mental capacity to simultaneously concentrate on driving, and listen to music. So he kept it off, only taking in the gush of AC as it blew out of the vents, and the twinkle of stars in the sky.

Paranoia plagued this thoughts, for fear of being arrested. Thankfully, though, he soon found himself parked in the gravel driveway of a small house on the outskirts of the city. He gave himself a few seconds to catch his breath, before he pulled the key from the ignition and stepped out of his car.

He appraised the house in the dark, and smiled to himself. Lance _was_ a good man. And he was a strong man. He had been through his fair share of shit in life, and had come out strong. He lived in his parent's old house that he inherited when they passed, and Arthur noted that it appeared well kept. In the dark he could see some flowers planted in a garden around the house, and the sheen of the clean vinyl siding.

Arthur didn't bother knocking on the door. He just twisted the knob and walked in. He was greeted with the sight of Lance sitting on the couch, remote in one hand, beer in the other. "Hey man," he said, tearing his gaze away from the TV, and then turning it off.

"Hi." Arthur smiled sheepishly and tugged his shoes off. "God I feel like a wreck," he complained, before collapsing into an oversized chair.

"What's up?" Lance asked, genuinely.

"I... I think I'm in love."

… "_What? _With Sophia?"

"No, no, no. No. No. Not her at all. I just... god I can't believe myself. I went to that g-gay bar, and there was a man there."

"Oh." Lance raised an eyebrow and leaned back smiling. "Tell me more."

Arthur blushed and looked down, slightly embarrassed. Lance. God, Lance, as Arthur liked to think of him, was a freaking _angel._ He was a good person, a good friend, and an accepting soul. That and the knowledge that he was on speaking terms with his feminine side, made him all the more wonderful. It also made coming out a lot easier...

It had happened about a year ago after Arthur had had sex with Sophia. They'd been together a month and a half, and she had initiated... and he couldn't bring himself to stop her. He hated himself for it. Almost as much as he hated it, in itself. And then he had told Lance everything, and he still had to go back to Sophia. Because he didn't want to disappoint her, or, for some reason, his dad (though, he'd been doing plenty of that since college). And because he was a coward.

But he had bared his soul to Lance, and Lance had shoved a beer in his hand and told him that everything would work itself out. Arthur, now, was wondering if this was the time that the prediction would come true.

"Well... to be honest... I know nothing about him."

"And yet you're in love with him?"

"I... Um – okay, so maybe I shouldn't have led with that. But... I don't know... I just... can't get him off of my mind because he's so perfect. At least, I imagine him to be. For some reason, I just have this sense that he's just... right."

"So what's he like?"

"I..." Arthur sighed and felt tears welling up inside of him, and he blinked them away. He had no reason for them. "I only watched him. But he's shy. At least I think he is. He was sitting at a both with two other chicks most of the night. Well one of them was dancing, but then, after a long time, he eventually got up and went into the dance floor. And then I got up, cause I wanted to like... get his attention or something, but some other gorgeous guy swooped in. But they danced for a while, and got kind of intimate, but I could tell, on some level, that he was uncomfortable with it. And then he left and... that was it. "

They sat in silence for a second.

"Is that it?" Lance asked.

"Um... I think so. Why?"

"That's not much to go on. To me it sounds like a crush or an infatuation."

"No!" A desperate look flashed through Arthur's eyes. "You weren't there! It was the way he did everything, and how our eyes connected, and how his black hair fell on his head, and how it bounced when he danced, and how he danced like he just didn't give a damn."

Lance nodded. "Arthur, you know I just want you to be happy."

"Yeah."

"Okay then, so why didn't you just... _do_ something. If you thought he was so perfect, why did you just sit on the sidelines and watch?"

"Because I didn't want to... interrupt."

"Then pardon me for this, but – What the fuck Arthur? Are you crazy? Are you _so_ enamored with this stranger that you can't bare to interrupt his own flirtations with that other guy? You doubt yourself a lot, but you are an attractive guy, Arthur. I'm fairly certain that whoever the other man was, he probably wasn't as great of a person as you, in any respect."

Arthur nodded sadly. "I know I fucked up. I wish I was more... outgoing, or courageous, or honest to myself. But I'm just not..."

"Arthur, that's bullshit-"

"-and I'm not a one-night-stand kind of guy. I want a deep relationship."

"You have that. With Sophia."

"Well, I'd like to have enjoyable sex, also."

"I understand. But I think, right now, you're preventing yourself from bliss. Break up with Sophia."

"What? No. I couldn't. Not now. After everything. It'd be t-too hard."

"Yeah, and it might just be the kick in the balls that you need. Something to get you to get out there and find the right... um... man for you."

Arthur sniffed. "I don't want to. As much as I dislike my father, I just can't bring myself to disappoint him."

"If your father is the basis for all of your decisions, then I think you need some knew logic."

"I know. I know I'm being completely unreasonable, but I just can't help it! I'm hard wired to please him because I've known him all of my life. And he's raised me. And he's going to rub that in, and as much as I hate that, that's not going to change. That, and the fact that I'm kind of relying on his money."

"Arthur. Seriously. Those are some crappy excuses. I know you're working at the restaurant, and I know that you've invested a lot of money there, but you need to start finding a way to make some cash in the mean time. You don't want to have to rely on your dad forever."

"I know."

"Well if you know, then why do you need me to tell you how to get your life on track?"

"I..."

They both sat there, breathing heavily. "Look, Arthur. I'm sorry. Let's just take a chill pill. Go grab a beer, and then tell me all about the guy from the bar."

"Okay."

After a quick excursion to the refrigerator, Arthur had been pleased to find that Lance's entire bottom shelf was fully stocked with various types of beer ("Damn, what are you, an alcoholic?" "Yeah. But you know that Julia Child saying?" "No?" "'Everything in moderation, including moderation.' I like to include not-drinking in that." "You're gayer than me." "Whatever."). After grabbing a bottle with the same label as the one that Lance had, he rejoined him in the living room, back in the oversized arm chair.

"So, the guy?"

"Oh yeah, well, he's super fair, and like... probably our height, except not quite as... broad. But he looked pretty young... not like jail-bait young, but like... mid-twenties or something. Similar age. And he had raven-hair, like I mentioned before. And when I say raven, I mean it. It is blacker than black... kinda short but wavy or whatever. And he had gorgeous dimples. And a cute smile... and I just wanted to hold him in my arms," Arthur gushed.

"Huh," Lance started. "He sounds like someone I know. That's funny."

"Who?"

"Oh this gay guy on my level, named Merlin."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Blue eyes?"

"Yep. And he has dark hair and pale skin too. And he's 26 like I am. Whoa, that's kinda funny how coincidental life can be."

"Er... Lance... you don't think?"

"... Actually, I like to think that I _do_ think."

"No. Lance... do you think that... maybe... Merlin is the guy from the club?"

"No. No... I don't think so. I mean, that would be completely obvious right? Or... maybe obvious is the wrong word. But... like... wouldn't that be... I dunno... really coincidental. I mean, he comes out to me on accident one day... by the way, I think he has turrets or something... and next he's at a gay bar? Oh." Lance sighed and cast an un-holy gaze at his beer. "Stupid alcohol."

"Butbutbut..." Arthur looked slightly baffled. "What if this Merlin guy is the guy from the bar?"

"Then life has a funny sense of humor, and you have another shot at winning his heart!" … Lance paused to think for a moment. "Actually, now that I reflect upon it, I think you two could make a cute couple. Similar colored eyes, and then your hair is all yin-yang, light/dark or whatever."

Arthur's eyes were slightly wide, and he traced circles into the glass bottle nestled between his legs. "This is crazy. There are hundreds of thousands of people in Camelot. What are the odds that the one guy I think is amazing at a gay bar, happens to work on your level?"

"Well they aren't very high."

"I know."

"But, you know, crazier things have happened."

"They have?"

"Sure."

"Like what?"

Lance glanced a him as if he were being superfluous. "Um... Like... winning the lottery."

"Oh. Sure." Arthur took a sip. "But you got to admit, that's just not likely."

"No... hey, I've got an idea. What if I go get my laptop and I show you a picture of Merlin."

"Why do you have a picture of Merlin?"

"He's in the employee database, dipshit."

"Oh... Well, I'm not sure I really want to know anyways."

"Why not?"

"This is crazy. Okay, if they're not the same then I can go on, right? But what if they _are_ the same? What do I do then? What if he's worse than I imagined? What if he's a horrible person who likes kicking puppies, or something? I could end up worse off with him, than with Sophia."

"Arthur! First of all, you're totally over thinking it. Secondly, Merlin is really nice. There's no reason you wouldn't like him. Here, let me go grab my laptop, and show you a picture."

Lance set his beer down on a coaster, and got up. He trudged over to the small table in the hall and grabbed the black case from on top, and brought it back to the living room, setting it down next to the coffee table. He pulled out his MacBook, and a few clicks later he had the company profile pulled up for MERLIN B. EMRY.

"Here, look. This is Merlin."

Lance turned the computer to Arthur who peaked through his closed eyes at the glorious picture in front of him. "Holy shit," he breathed.

Lance grinned. "Is it him?" he asked excitedly.

"Y-yes." Arthur's eyes were wide in astonishment. "I can't fucking believe it." He reached out his fingers and brushed them on the screen where the aloof picture of Merlin was displayed.

"Do you know what this means Arthur?"

"What?"

"Dude – you fucking have another shot at this! This is life telling you that you're on the right trail, no red herrings here!"

"Do you really think so?"

"Oh, shit yes?" Lance fumbled in his pocket for his own Blackberry. "Here, I've got an idea," he said as he pulled it out.

Arthur's eyes grew wide, once again. "Um... what is it?"

"How about I get him to meet me for lunch on Monday, and you can come in and meet him and stuff."

"I don't know about that... I think it'd be awkward or something." Arthur cast his gaze to the carpet floors. "Maybe I should... I dunno... try and find a better way..." but as his voice trailed off, he realized that Lance was already on the phone.

"Hey Merlin, it's me – Lance. I'm just calling to request that you meet me for lunch on Monday. Okay, have a great weekend, and I'll see you soon. Bye." He hung up, and Arthur sighed back into the chair.

"Fuck. I wish you hadn't..."

"Hey, now you have to come?"

"Why?"

"Well I don't have anything to say to him, do I?"

Arthur made a face, but inside he was screaming praises for Lance. "Okay, fine. Whatever. I have to go to the bathroom."

"Alright."

Arthur set his beer down on the table (Lance immediately moved it on top of a coaster), and pushed himself out of the chair. Suddenly he yawned. "Shit, I didn't realize how tired I am?"

Lance took a second to process his body's feelings. "Yeah... I guess I could sleep. Hey, if you want, you can crash in my spare room."

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks."

Arthur proceeded to the bathroom, and when he got there, he slammed, and locked, the door behind him. He looked at his groggy figure in the mirror and turned on the faucet to splash water on his face, cleaning off the perspiration that had been acquired over the course of the evening.

Arthur opened the toilet, and unzipped his pants. He pulled out his half-hard cock, and closed his eyes. He put his other hand on the wall, and silently stroked his length to thoughts of the dark haired man that he found so perfect. Like an angel.

He imagined those lips like they were his hand, curving up and down his length with a delicate tongue and sensual breaths. He parted his lips in a silent moan. All the thoughts that passed through his head drove him absolutely crazy.

He pulled his hand from the wall, and ran it through his hair. He imagined the boy looking up at him from his vantage point on his knees. Arthur brushed his fingers along his hard stomach, and up his chest, rubbing his nipples until they were firm and pointed.

And then he came in small bursts, into the toilet, and onto his hand. One by one he shot out the seed and every time, he could feel his body spasm under the pure euphoria of joy.

He gave himself a second to soak in the moment, before he opened his eyes and silently used some toilet paper to clean himself up. He tossed it into the toilet and flushed it. He washed his hands and looked at himself in his reflection, again. He was disgusted with himself for being so quick to fall for the stranger.

He left the bathroom, and found Lance half-asleep on the couch. Instead of finishing his beer, Arthur just stumbled to the spare bedroom and collapsed on top of the sheets.

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><p>AN: This fictional city of Camelot is a cross between London/England and a generic American metropolitan city like NYC or Chicago. -.-


	5. Pt I, Ch 5: Blood Oath

**THE CONTRACT**

Part I: The Contract  
><em>Chapter 5: Blood Oath<em>

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><p>An - This chapter is pretty graphic.

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><p>Yes, Merlin couldn't believe he was doing this, actually following through on his end of the deal. Maybe he was insane. Maybe... but he didn't feel very insane. Only sane people know that what they're doing is wrong, right?<p>

Merlin glanced at the apartment building across the street. Red brick with white blocks every few vertical yards, in a row. It was a grand, although admittedly a rather generic, affair. Seraglio Apartment Homes, Merlin read on the sign plaque that had been screwed into the wall next to the large glass doors where a man stood with a blank expression.

Interesting, Merlin thought, that Sophia should live in a place named after a Harem. What the builders were thinking, he'd never know.

Merlin took a sip of his coffee – one sugar and a whole lot of cream (If he were truly honest, he would have to admit that he hated coffee. He only drank it because he felt obligated, as an adult.) and realized he wouldn't get through this invisible. People would see him. They would see him enter the building, or they would direct him where to go – maybe even page Sophia for him to enter. People would deduct easily that he had been there.

A man walked by his car, and Merlin felt the awful feeling in his stomach multiply tenfold. Magnitude five.

He opened his car door, and pushed it away. He was already out of his seat belt, and his plastic mug of coffee was safely returned to its holder.

Merlin's car was fucking old. He only had it because he never got around to getting rid of it after it had served its purpose in his youth. The window still had a crank, and the paint was beginning to chip – but he kind of had to love it. After all, it was his first and only car. He supposed he should start thinking about investing in a new vehicle, or rather, maybe a new _used_ vehicle.

One step out of the car – easy does it. Merlin sighed and sighed again. Two feet out, and then he was using his hands and pulling himself up and closing the door. He locked it then looked up at the large Seraglio Apartment Homes building.

And then he realized something: he had no plan. No disguise, no idea of how to get up to her floor, no lies to tell people, no alibi. Worse yet, no weapon.

He had been so fixated on the _thought_ of the kill that he never took the time to _plan_ the kill. Never took a moment to really think things through, and make sure his priorities were in check.

Merlin's hands were shaking with preemptive guilt. Should he get back in his car, drive home, check in on his mental state, plan a god damn murder and then come back, or just do it?

He glanced at the doorman and they made eye contact. Oh shit, he thought. Well, I guess it's too late to quit now, might as well get this over with.

So he turned around and leaned against his car, eyes closed.

Am I thinking straight? he asked himself.

The short answer was, no. The long answer was also, no, only it was repeated a thousand times over. But, he supposed, the real question wasn't, "Am I in the right state of mind?" but, "Does it matter?"

The answer to that was also a fairly loud and adamant, no. So that was that.

He opened his eyes and looked at the other buildings in front of him. Shops, he noted, and more apartments. People, everywhere.

So the kill. What was he to do, strangle her? Choke her? Smother her? Merlin could feel his face going red. He couldn't think about it, he'd just have to do it. So he pushed himself off his old car, and walked to the street, checked both ways for incoming traffic like his mother had taught him, and then crossed.

"Hello," the doorman said, pulling the large, heavy door open.

Merlin nodded to him in acknowledgment – he wasn't sure that he'd be able to keep his voice stable. Once inside he realized he had to punch in a code or get someone to buzz him up, for there was, to his great relief, no person behind a desk, waiting to direct his visit. Only a few (fake?) potted plants and a camera in the far corner of the ceiling, with an ominous, blinking red light.

He looked at the list of names and the buttons next to them until he came to the one he had half-hoped he wouldn't find: 612 – S. Goldwyn-Mayer.

He analyzed the situation, then ran his fingers down all of the buttons (excluding the one appointed to apartment 612) in hopes that some idiotic person would buzz him up, like had had seen in the movies.

To his great disbelief, it worked and in less than twenty seconds, the elevator had _ding_ed and he was ascending.

1... 2... 3... 4... Merlin watched as the digital number slowly increased with every passing floor.

5... 6... A sharp ring sounded through the elevator and the silver doors slid open. This is it, he thought, his eyes watering and his skin crawling. I'm doing it.

He stepped out of the metal box and looked at the sign on the wall: 601-615 to the left, 616-630 to the right.

And so Merlin turned to the left, and walked almost to the very end.

Apartment 612 was on his right hand side. It had an ordinary wooden door with a leopard-print "Welcome" mat on the floor.

Merlin swallowed and raised his hand to the knocker – but stopped himself short. His heart beat was harder than ever before and he just wanted to be anywhere but there.

It took him a minute but he did it. And then he could hear the gentle click of the bolt sliding open, and then the door was opening, but only just slightly, and Sophia peered out, a phone sandwiched between her shoulder and her head, and, judging from the state of her breathing, she was in the midst of a very private conversation.

"What?" she asked pointedly. "Who are you?"

Merlin swallowed again and then faked a smile. "Hi, I'm Merlin. I just moved in down the hall, I'm sure you've seen my moving stuff...?"

"No."

"Well, anyways, I just wanted to introduce myself."

Sophia shifted. "Oh, okay. Well... I'm Sophia." she extended her hand and they quickly shook. "Look I'm busy right now, but it was nice meeting you."

She made to close her door, but Merlin stopped her. "Wait, um, actually that's not all I wanted... Uh... can I borrow an egg? I forgot to go to the store in all of the moving craze, and my daughter... wants an egg." Merlin wasn't sure where that horrible lie came from, but he was grateful none-the-less.

Sophia looked him up and down with a quizzical face, and then sighed, obviously annoyed. "I'll call you back," she said into her phone, before clicking it off and sliding on a halfhearted smile. "Fine."

She opened the door the rest of the way. "You can wait in the miniscule foyer if you like." She turned around and marched away, while Merlin crossed the threshold into her living space.

This was it, he thought. It was pretty much now or never. He watched as she left, her back to him, her jeans tight and her red blouse trailing. Merlin could feel a lump in his throat. This was a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad idea. And yet it was happening!

Without thinking he held his breath and took slow anguished steps down the hall, towards where Sophia had just disappeared into the kitchen. And he realized this was all wrong. He shouldn't be going slow. He should be getting this over with... fast. So Merlin sped up and he looked around the corner and saw her opening the fridge to grab the carton of eggs, and he balled his hands into a fast and he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do then, but he knew that hitting her would be the first step.

He eyed the phone on the counter, off. That was a good thing. No one would have to hear anything. So he took a deep breath, and he realized that it was too loud, and she knew he was there, and he could tell she was about to straighten up and look at him and say something – but he couldn't take that... he couldn't listen to her say anything else. Couldn't have her becoming human.

He couldn't care about her.

So he did it. He pulled his right fist back and like a sling shot, hit her in the left side of her rib cage, causing her to lose balance, slam against the open refrigerator door which then swung as far open as it could, carrying her with it, as her hand had been very much, holding on.

But she was okay. In a whole lot of pain, but more or less okay, and worst of all, alive. She looked at him with a whole lot of hurt and venom, and opened her mouth to scream but he began kicking her. As hard and as fast as he could. And with each blow she made a yelp and Merlin remembered that the door was open and that she had neighbors on either side and across the hall and someone might hear so he had to do it fast. Fast, fast, fast.

He took a quick gander around the room and zeroed in on the knives in the large wooder holder next to her cutting board. Sophia was whimpering, and as he crossed the tiny area towards the knives, she made feeble attempts to grab at his legs. But he pulled the biggest knife out from its sanctuary, and immediately felt disgusted at himself as he gazed upon the silver blade.

Merlin looked to Sophia and saw that some dressing from broken bottles had gotten on her clothes.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she looked up at him, from the linoleum floor. "But I have to do this. I'm so, so sorry."

"Fuck you."

He swallowed some more accumulated saliva and wiped some perspiration from his forehead with the back of sleeve and then closed his eyes. He couldn't think about the wounds he'd inflict. He'd just have to do it. Like the punches, and the kicks, and the whole god damn day. So he squatted down and her eyes were so full of fear, and she was squirming, but without much vigor as she was in so much pain and he began to stab. She cried out, loudly, with each insertion. It wasn't as easy as he had expected though. In fact it was all together rather difficult. Getting the knife into her body was difficult. Pulling it out was worse.

When he finally opened his eyes he was thoroughly disgusted. She was bleeding everywhere, and she was only a few heartbeats away from dead.

He let go of the knife, and realized his hands were covered in blood. And his shoes. And his jeans.

"Why?" she croaked out, when she had stopped thrashing and realized that stillness would be the only way to make the pain go away.

And Merlin stood up, crying quite relentlessly now.

"Whaa..." She died.

Merlin backed away, but it only took two steps and he hit the other counter, and he had to stabilize himself with his hands. His whole body was shaking, and he couldn't help but think that he had killed someone. He had KILLED someone. And he was getting the blood everywhere. Between whimpers he quickly ran to the door and shut and locked it before falling against it and sliding down staring at his hands.

He cried for a few moments but then something inside of him clicked off and his body stopped trembling and his eyes stopped crying and he caught up with his breathing.

He had to clean up. That was next. But at that very second the phone started ringing, and Merlin froze. It rang quite a few times before the answering machine picked up and he could breathe a sigh of relief.

Merlin got up, and took off his shoes and his jeans and his shirt and carried them back to the kitchen. He looked at Sophia's body and the knife stuck in her torso. He set his clothes next to the sink and bent over, nearly naked, and with an effort, pulled the knife from her and wrenching out some organs in the process. The sight was truly horrific.

"Hi, this is Sophia. I'm not available to take your call right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. _BEEP!_"

He took the knife to the sink and quickly cleaned all of the blood off of it, before drying it and sticking it back into the holder. Then he plugged the sink, filled it with warm water. He took the soap bottle and pumped some into his hands before working it into the blood on his pants and then shirt and then set them in the sink to soak.

"Um, hi Sophia, it's Arthur..."

Merlin's shoes came next. He wiped them down with a wet paper towel until he felt they were clean and put the dirty towels in a pile on the counter.

"I've been trying to call you the past bit but your line has been busy... But now it's not busy and I'm calling you now and you're not answering and it's kind of pissing me off."

And then when he was done with himself, he looked at Sophia and her torn clothes. He'd have to discard them so as not to track the blood everywhere. His mind clear, temporarily (Merlin would have time for emotions later), he grabbed some plastic grocery bags from underneath the sink, and went about stripping Sophia completely naked, until she was entirely exposed from her breasts to her insides. Merlin tied the bags shut, and then began his search for Saran Wrap. He found a box in a drawer, and then went about wrapping plastic amongst plastic around her torso, until she was bundled together. He picked her up and then carried her to the tub in the master bathroom and set her down in it.

"Sophia, I know you're there."

He looked down at himself and noticed blood from her body had gotten all over him.

"Whatever, you know what? I was going to do this the nice way but I'm sick and tired of lying and pretending, so I'll just do this now."

He went back to the kitchen and looked at the ground and realized that there was no need for him to be cleaning up the crime scene. He should just get dressed and get out. But he looked to his clothes and realized they were too wet and bloody to wear, so he opened the trash and threw the paper towel and all of their sullied clothes in it.

"Sophia, I can't do this anymore. This relationship is not good. I am living a lie that I've been embarrassed to admit to, but I think I'm beginning to really understand myself, and I can't see myself with you any longer. So I guess you can take from what I just said as me breaking up with you. I hope your life is okay, and that we can part... fairly amicably. I realize I'm being a bit of a douche right now, and that we're kind of in the middle of a fight, but I'm just done."

Merlin then drained the sink and went about searching Sophia's apartment for clothes. At last he decided that because he was so skinny he could get away with wearing a pair of her sweat pants, a white tank top, and an oversized gray hoodie he'd found amongst her jeans and bras. He went back to the sink, washed his hands, then tied up the big trash bag and pulled it out of the plastic can. He looked around the apartment with no sense of satisfaction or finality, grabbed his shoes and left.

"So, yeah... that's it. Alright. Bye."

When Merlin was out of the building, he found a dumpster in a nearby alley way where he abandoned the trash. He went to his pocket for his keys and realized he had left his keys, wallet and phone in his pants when he soaked them.

Fuck.

So he opened the trash, pulled open the bag and found the pants – his destroyed phone, sad wallet, and loud ring of keys and glumly stuffed them into his pockets before returning to his car.

Upon looking in his rear view mirror, Merlin was surprised to see Lucifer sitting, and waiting in the back seat.

The shock scared him half to death and then the impact of what he did hit him again.

"Very good," Lucifer said. "Very gory, lots of blood. Quite a mess you've made."

Merlin was silent, his eyes welling back up with tears.

"Oh stop your boo-hooing, Merlin. I'm proud. You actually followed through. So I'll keep my end of the bargain too." He snapped his fingers and Merlin felt a searing pain in his arm. "Look at it," the devil instructed.

Merlin pulled up his sweatshirt sleeve and saw his signature, etched into his skin. The scars bleeding. "What is this?"

"That was you signing the contract. In blood. Which means that you've got it. The magic. Can't you feel it?" Lucifer smiled and smelled the air.

Merlin sniffed and closed his eyes. "I can't think about this right now," he stated.

"Alright, I get it. Your first kill. That's a big deal. I'll let you deal with it in your own time... Do, take your time. Although, not _too_ much time."

"Please get out."

"Oh, calm down, I was going to leave anyways." Lucifer made for the door handle. "But before I forget – your love, he's coming. But don't expect him today, and don't expect him tomorrow, or even the day after. But soon. Very soon. In the mean time, however, don't be afraid to have a little fun. Lord knows, you'll need it." With that, Lucifer got out of the car and shut the door. In the rear view mirror, Merlin could see the man walking away and disappearing into the crowd.

Merlin realized he had begun his descent down a slippery slope and that it was already too late for him to crawl back to safety. He had made his decision, and now he'd have to live with it. Magnitude six.

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><p>An - Wow! That took me a really long time to update but there were a number of factors as to why: 1) school was REALLY busy and I've been overwhelmed for the past few months; 2) I've been working on planning this story, it's really long and 3) writing violence, like sex, is very difficult. Alas I hoped you enjoyed.

A note on the future: I've planned the rest of this story like a "season" of Merlin. There will be 13 episodes or parts, with each part having 4-5 chapters. This chapter wraps up part 1. In the future I plan on writing each part one at a time, revising it and then posting them all in a short span of time, so any hiatus' come between parts not chapters.

The tentative title of Part II is "Existence".


End file.
